About the Soul Taker Cocktail
by The Unwritten One
Summary: Sometimes life is simply out of ones control. One day Max is simply trying to live as she wants. A mother with different plans gets her caught up in the plans for an arranged marriage for her. And the schemes continue when she forced to stay with the Varia.
1. Chapter 1

For God's sake, who the hell ever invented high heels? And who got the bloody idea to make them even thinner and taller? It would be more comfortable to walk on actual stiletto's as shoes. And panty hoses: who got the idea to make nylon pants which can't even stay in one piece for more than … A day? An hour? How long do those things last?

Why do I have to wear these things again? I know it's Natalia's wedding, but would it really mean the end of the world if I wore something that wasn't a dress? Well, no matter how good the argument, it's not like mother would listen. That woman would make me wear a skirt even if it meant the death of me.

What else did she say about today? Probably the usual: act like a lady, be mature, watch your language, more stuff like that. Public appearance is everything with these people. No wonder she rarely lets me attend social gatherings. Not that I try to be this perfect daughter she has in mind anyway.

The car pulled up into the driveway of a way to extravagant mansion with an elaborate garden to match. Some people could only dream of holding their wedding here. Guess my sister got lucky. Although belonging to a mob family does wonders for, well not just wonders, but it shapes and influences one's whole life, from the day one is born to long after one's six feet under.

I nodded to the driver as I got out of the car. Still can't believe I had to arrive here as a normal guest. Every other female relative got invited to help Natalia with pretty much everything. Not that I would do much good helping, it's not like I have any substantial experience or talent in the make-up or fashion department or anything of the like. But it would be at least polite to have been offered a part in this whole charade anyway.

I cursed the gravel stone path to the entrance to the mansion, since the only thing worse than wearing heels is having to wear them while walking on a shifting unpredictable surface. Somehow I managed to make it inside without falling. The inside of the mansion was predictable: antique décor, expensive looking decorations, and as a wedding exclusive ever inch of surface had been used to place glasses of wine, champagne, bottles containing said drinks or other liquors and if there was not liquid placed on the tables, it was food, small appetisers or anything else remotely bite sized.

Voices came from further inside. It seemed there were already a few early guests on the scene and since there was no way nobody noticed the sharp sound of heels clicking on the marble floor – although it might just be expensive tiles – I had to go over there and pretend to be happy to see people I barely recognised.

"And there is our Max!" My mother walked up to me. In short the typical mobster wife: acts important, dresses too revealing for her age and don't forget the too red lipstick. And, although 'Max' is indeed my complete given name, my mother resorts to calling me Max only if the circumstances demand it; at home I am constantly named Maxime. But this means that either my father or grandmother are here, which they cannot possibly be – they're both diseased – or someone very important is present.

Looking around the room I could see my brother and his wife, a number of aunts and uncles along with with cousins, nieces and nephews. My oldest sister wasn't there, which was expected. The rest of the room was filled with vague acquaintances with one exception. By the window overlooking the garden stood a tall man, dressed in an Italian black suit, with long silver hair. It was a matter of simple deduction to reach the conclusion that this man must be this important person in the room.

Mother pulled me aside slightly. "That man is from the Vongola family." The Mongolia family, if someone hasn't heard of them, they're either far removed from the world of wise guys and made men or just plan ignorant. After that my mother simply continued her ways, probably returning to see if Natalia's dress up game was going according to plan. What she said was meant as a warning: don't do anything to rub this man the wrong way. Freely translated as: Max, just act like a good girl.

My brother, one of the last persons alive to treat me as a human being rather than some kind of doll, waved his hand at me. At least I had an excuse to talk to him without having to greet every individual personally first.

"Max!" He began before I could even start, "How are you? Those pastel colours look great on you." He looked carefully at the dress I was wearing. A 'cute' dress in lavender with light blue details.

I rolled my eyes, he knew how I felt about all these … girly things. "I'm doing alright. What about you? Everything good with the family?"

He chuckled. "I'm fine, just fine. Collin's a delight, but we left him at home with the nanny. We thought it'd be more convenient for everybody else to nit bring him." I nodded and he continued: "You have to visit soon though. Your nephew misses his aunt." He nudged me in the side with his elbow and it was my time to chuckle. All the while my sister-in-law sat next to him, softly smiling all the while.

She was a sweet, quiet woman, always forget her name though. When my brother was younger he never dated girl like her. It's easier to picture him picking on girls like that. But around five years ago he took exactly that kind of girl home to meet the parents. Father took a liking to her almost immediately. He didn't like the idea of dragging an innocent woman into the world of the mafia though. They got married around three years ago and shortly thereafter they were expecting. And now I'm aunt Max. Jeez, that makes me sound old.

I told my brother that I was going to walk to the place the ceremony was going to be held. So I went. Everything was set up in the middle of the flower garden right on top of the grass. Between the seats, on which a couple of people had already taken place, a pink carpet had been rolled out, obviously the choice of my mother. It went well with pink roses that decorated the arch under which my sister was to be wed. Everything was broken white and pink, that covers it.

The ceremony itself was in no way exceptional. Natalia looked gorgeous in her dress but made us wait for half an hour, as it appears is a tradition of some sort almost. The whole vows thing took longer than necessary. During all this I took a look around and noticed the man with the long hair standing off to the side. He wasn't sitting on a chair so he was not an invited guest. Otherwise there would have been a seat reserved for him.

His presence bothered me a little bit. He barged in her uninvited and unannounced. He wasn't talking to any of the other guests. There had to be a reason why he was here. Why go through the trouble to show up when he has no business here? But when people started to get up from their seat, it became more important to stay on my legs than anything else. Dwelling on strangers over not breaking any freaking bones? Yeah not going to happen.

The plan was that the bride and groom would have some wedding pictures taken before dinner was served. This meant that for everyone but the the bride, the groom and the wedding photographer there was a gap of somewhat around an hour or two in between the scheduled gatherings. This was of course the time used by guests to catch up with one another. This wasn't something I looked very forward too, so I tried to occupy myself by walking a few rounds through the garden. Halfway trough the first round I already concluded that this decision wasn't a good one, since my feet already hurt after the first ten steps I took.

In the end I found a couple of chairs around a table no one was occupying yet, thankfully. I sat down and started to take off my heels. I would have to put them back on when I needed to move from my spot, but it seemed to me that that wouldn't immediately be necessary. The people around me were occupied with talking to each other. The men were most likely talking business if they weren't simply making polite small talk. The women acted nice to one another but gossiped about everybody the moment they were out of earshot. The children played with each other in the garden, free of any cares. I had passed the age were it was fun to play with the children, neither did I feel the need to partake in the charade the other women used to kill their time.

Somewhere through my musings I heard footsteps behind me. Gravel stone does wonders for not being able to move around silently. They held still, so I suppose someone else didn't want to deal with others. I waited for a moment but when I couldn't hear any other form of movement, I looked over my shoulder.

I saw who I expected to see. The longhaired man was standing a couple of yards away, his eyes focused on me. When I continued to meet his gaze he set a few steps forward. He walked confidently, with the sort of pride only very few can make a claim to.

"You are Max, right?" He spoke without the uncertainty most people have in their voice when they say my name. There are not that many girls with boy's names on this planet after all. I nodded once in return. He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket. I tensed up. There was no direct reason why someone would order another person to put a bullet through my brain. This does not mean there are no reasons to think of, revenge and payback are strange things when put into motion.

He pulled out an envelope and held it out in front me. I chide myself for thinking a hit man would be foolish enough to simply shoot his victim at such a big social event as a wedding. It's not unheard of, but a rare thing to happen. I stared at the envelope for a while. I could see my name written on it. Graceful calligraphy in ink. A fountain pen most likely, unless someone bothered with an inkwell and a quill.

I looked up at the man. "Who are you?"

The man looked rather irritated. Wonder if it was because I didn't take the envelope right away or because I asked who he was?

"Squalo Superbi." I kept looking at him until he continued. "Second in command of the Varia assassination squad." So he is an assassin after all. The Varia … they're allied or something with the Vongola so his story checks out. It's either true or he simply hasn't slipped up yet.

"And why would someone use someone as important as you as a delivery guy?" Mother's not anywhere near here so why bother being the sweet polite princess?

"I was told to deliver it personally to you. By the Ninth." He was getting more irritated. Note to self: Don't anger the assassin. Even if it's fun.

I took the envelope from this Superbi. A normal envelope all right, made of slightly coarser and heavier paper than the average one though. Someone made a point of being fancy. It had to be pretty important if it had to be handed to me in person by this walking shampoo commercial. So I opened it.

At first glance there was nothing wrong with it. Inside was one sheet of paper, the same kind that the envelope was made of. The writing was in the same manner as on the envelope. What bothered me was what was in the letter. About the only thing right about the whole letter was my name. No 'Maxime' or any other possible variation of 'Max,' just 'Max.' The letter stated something about meeting me personally after having thought over the possible position of fiancée and possible wife of some mobster as proposed by …

"Mother." As obvious as the sky is blue. I started putting on my heels again. There was no way this would turn out to be a civilized conversation or that I would be able to hold it in until the end of this wedding, which only left one possible option.

I have no idea if that man bothered to stick around to watch me open the letter and leave. Doesn't matter anyhow. At that moment all I wanted was to get far away from that place.


	2. Chapter 2

Smoke must still have been coming out of my head when I got home because I wasn't any less fuming by then. Reading the letter over and over again, trying to find a clue, a something, anything to tell me that this was not, I repeat not, meant for me. I didn't find any. It did help to keep the anger up though. But after that I had dinner and a shower and mother took forever to show up so I was more reasonable when she showed up.

I was sitting in the living room, in front of the television, while eating ice-cream angrily. Well no one can eat ice-cream angrily, I mean, it's ice-cream, but the idea is there. But that's when mother walked into the living room. She glanced once at me once before she walked further. This was not exactly like I pictured this confrontation.

Wait where did I leave this letter again? I had it right before dinner, and during dinner, but obviously I left it when I took a shower. If I was having dinner before I took my shower, then I left it on…

The table. Mother saw it before I did. A ripped open envelope on her usually so organised and pristine table. We're barely allowed to breath near it, which really undermines the whole purpose of having such a table in the first place. Furniture is there to use, right? She picked it up.

"Maxime, what is this?" She said as she took out the paper inside.

I put down the empty bowl of ice-cream. "It is a letter." She glared at me. "That Vongola guy gave it to me." I saw slight surprise on her face, but there was a glimmer of hope, glee even.

Her high hopes were answered by the letter. "Dear, this is fantastic!" She dramatically let her hand flutter in front of her face, as if she was trying to keep in tears of happiness. "We have to get you new clothes, a dress of course. A first impression is everything. We need a beautician, for sure. This meeting is soon but your hair definitely has to get extensions. And…"

Here we go. It's even worse than for the wedding today. I know how important outer appearances are in this world. The more important a person is, the more important it is what people hear about and think of you. And she was obsessed since day one with making me look like this perfect feminine doll. But more importantly time to step on the brake here.

"Mom." Nothing grabs her attention than calling her that. She considers it 'disrespectful.' "I'm not going to anything. Did you actually read what this thing says?" I almost tore it from her hands and held it up in front of her. "You are trying to marry me off? And you tried to do it behind my back? That's low, even for you! How many of these did you send? How many?!"

Her lips became a bright red, thin line. "This is the only reply that came. You're not that beautiful Max, and that youth of yours isn't going to stay forever. The sooner you marry a good man; the sooner your future is secure."

"For god's sake, mom, I'm twenty! I'm fucking twenty years old! Just because you married when you were eighteen doesn't mean the whole world has to! And I know I'm not a model, I'm not feminine and I like it that way. And my future?! You pulled me out of college the moment dad wasn't around anymore to stop you! I was this close to a bright future, but you decided you wanted to turn me into an airheaded trophy wife!"

My mom was shaking with anger. I felt secure in my argument, but mother had a nasty way of turning arguments in her favour in the end. She pointed to the letter. The long, red painted fingernail shook in the air. "You are going to that meeting. This letter doesn't give you a choice and we both know that we are in no position to refuse the Vongola family of all families."

Dang, she was right. But even so. "The letter only talks about me going. It is addressed to me. Even if I have to go, you're not. You can't control my life forever." I pray to the heavens she can't.

* * *

The day of the meeting mentioned in the letter came and I sat outside on the steps, waiting for some car to show up. Being as fancy and rich as they are, they were coming to pick me up. Believe it or not, I was waiting outside in the cold with only my hood to keep most of the rain away voluntarily. Being inside increased the risk of getting stuffed into a dress exponentially.

If I was going to go to this meeting and meet whoever I was going as myself. Dressed in a hoody, a t-shirt and jeans. They wanted this meeting to get to know me? They better not get their hopes up. They're getting exactly what they are asking for.

It took a while of regretting not to bring an umbrella before I heard the sound of tires on the gravel path. A large black car, elegant rather than bulky. Somehow it reminded me of cars used by funeral homes to transport coffins. Ugh, an overactive imagination is so troublesome at a time like this. Trying to make the best of things and my brains thinks about funerals and bringers of death.

The car stopped right in front of me. The first person to get out of the car wasn't a surprise. It was the silver haired man from the wedding. He was wearing something other than the Italian suit the other day. Although he was still dressed in all blacks, most of his outfit appeared to be made out of leather. He scowled at me when he saw me sitting on the stairs.

"Voi! Woman! Get in!" He's a lot louder when he doesn't have to lay low. So much for niceties, uh? I rolled my eyes, but I had little other option than to swing my backpack over my shoulder and get in. When I got in I could see the driver. Some large guy with a rather ridiculous appearance, his facial hair in particular.

"So this is the girl?" He said after he looked at me in the rear view mirror.

"She isn't what you'd expect, right?" Squalo didn't bother to introduce me to the driver, or vice versa, but from the causal way the talked to each other, about me no less, gave me the idea that they must work rather close together. Great. Now I'm in a car heading to some sketchy meeting I don't want to go to with not one, but two assassins. Doesn't seem like either of them will bother talking to me. I'll just stare out of the window.

Even though I tried to ignore them some shreds of their conversation still penetrated my thoughts. Most conversation concerned 'the Boss.' I don't know how to feel about this but I'm sure my not-quite-maybe-fiancé is either another assassin or this 'Boss' person. Am I glad I haven't agreed to anything yet… Let's hope mother didn't do it for me.

* * *

I wish I could complain about this place. Well I can, but it's kind of hard. It was a gorgeous mansion. Not as extravagant as mobsters usually seem to like. I personally prefer them even more minimalistic but this was better than most of those palaces. The two men simply headed for the door. I assumed I had to be here so I trailed behind them. I wasn't wrong. Nobody questioned me as I walked through the halls and when Squalo opened a large door at the end of one of them, he nodded towards the room to signal that I was supposed to follow him inside. The other man waited outside.

Squalo went in first. He must think himself more important than him. Can't challenge him on that, doesn't make him any less of an arrogant bastard though. Behind a large desk made of some expensive looking wood sat a man old from age. He smiled at me when he saw me but I wasn't a warm smile. It unsettled me for some reason, more than usual when people give you unmeant smiles. Something was off, but I don't know what...

"Max. Every bit as feminine as I heard." He said, obviously sarcastic. A pair of jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt at least two sizes to big don't make for a good female stereotypical way of dressing. He stood up behind his desk and offered his hand to me. "I am Timoteo, the Ninth boss of the Vongola family."

I shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you." I have manners, I just don't use them very often.

"Sit down. Sit down." He said as he himself sat down. He motioned towards one of two big armchairs sitting in front of the desk. Everything in this office was well picked, it all matches and comes together. I did as he said. Squalo remained standing by the door, which he had closed after stepping into the room.

"I'll call my son Xanxus over in a minute so you two can get to know each other," the Ninth said. "You've never met before, am I right?"

"Xanxus? No." I tried to keep calm, but he sensed my tension.

"Don't worry. It's just a meeting, if either of you doesn't want any of this to happen you can say no. I just want you to meet first." He smiled again, but this still seemed unconvincing to me. Even so, it felt good to know that at least someone was going to let me make my own decision in this matter. And no matter how horrible this Xanxus person is, I should be able to survive one simple meeting.

* * *

For the next half an hour he asked me all sorts of questions. Mostly rather standard ones. Where did I go to college? What did I study? What were my interests? Pretty basic and all that. Still I couldn't feel but be nervous as hell. After all, this man sitting in front of me was one of the most important and powerful man in all of the mafia, if not the world.

I told him what he wanted to know. I explained how I never even finished my first year in college since my mother refused to continue funding my studies after my father passed away. It needed no saying that the relation between mother and me was bad. I didn't bother to hide it. When he asked about my interests I kept it short. I preferred to spent my time in solitude, I liked to hike and read and when he asked if there was something I had always wanted but could never have I could only think of a pet. For as long as I could remember I wanted to have a dog to play with or a cat to keep me company, but mother never allowed it. Either because she claimed to be allergic or because she was worried somebody else was allergic. I suspect the actual reason was because she didn't want a 'messy animal' around. I didn't tell that to the Ninth of course.

"I can't promise you that you are allowed to keep a pet," he smiled a half smile, "but that doesn't mean you can't get any benefits out of this arrangement yourself." It caught my attention, naturally. Thus far the only one who could benefit from this arrangement was my family, or rather their standing in relation to other mobsters. But me individually? That was something that actually concerned me.

"If," he emphasised this, "you agree to this proposal and marry Xanxus, we could give you almost anything you want. You'd receive a small allowance to spend at your own discretion, you'd have access to a variety of services the Vongola provide and naturally you'd be under our protection from any threat imaginable." None of this was something I didn't see coming. The allowance was a small surprise though.

It was what he said next that really grabbed my attention.

"And I would be willing to free up the funds to put you through college." I could feel how my eyes widened. He continued talking but in the meantime I could only think about this. I could continue to study. I'd have never imagined that I'd have to marry someone in order to achieve that kind of independence. Such a contradiction, but I could chase after the financial independence I wanted, get a job after I finish my studies. They probably won't accept me trying to repay the money, but I could always just donate it or get rid of it in some other way to even out the balance.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'd still have to marry someone who I haven't even met.

"Of course we expect some things in return. As the wife, or future wife, of my son" - Did he say son? Are they seriously considering me as the future wife of his son?! Don't they have any other candidates or something? - "you are expected to attend all major social gatherings and events by his side, displaying the appropriate behaviour expected of you. You can fight out all and any other details amongst yourselves, as long as you appear like a couple respectable to all and any outsiders I have no other demands of you."

Alright, why are these demands so… reasonable? There is something really wrong here with this whole deal and I don't know what. There has got to be a catch. And since there is only one part of this whole 'deal' that I don't know yet it has got to be the guy they want me to marry so badly.

"Can I say no to this?" I said.

For a moment the Ninth looked surprised. He blinked a few times, before answering. "Don't worry," he said, but I could find no gentleness in his face people usually have when they assure people. "If either of you say no, the deal is off." When I didn't immediately react he continued. "I don't expect an answer anytime soon. Although our patience has a limit naturally, we're no rush for you to say yes. Or no."

I have to say that although I'm still no fan of this whole thing happening over here, it is a good way to get out from under mother's influence. I would be doing exactly what my mother wants, marrying an important mobster, but I can't live my entire live rebelling against her. I would be basing all my actions, my entire personality as a negative of hers. And a negative definition is, scientifically speaking, not a definition at all.

Halfway through all this he motioned to Squalo. I didn't bother to look behind me to see what he did, but I could hear the door open en close. After a while I heard some shouting and even the faint sound of something shattering in the distance. Glass. A window maybe? The Ninth didn't pay it any attention so I didn't either. Weird things happen around here for sure.

Then I heard heavy footsteps. These weren't just any footsteps, it felt as if the trembles made by the footsteps shook the whole building. I must be imagining things, but that was really how it felt. I only realised they were heading towards us when the door slammed open. Without thinking I looked behind me, at the door.

That was when I saw … him.

People always said that when they meet the love of their life they just know; they get all warm and fussy on the inside or something. All I could feel was blood draining from my face – although I must admit my situation was quite different. He was intimidating. From the scars on his face, the nonchalantly tied tie, his piercing glare that looked right trough you, this man radiated authority.

I tried to meet his gaze as head-on as I could, but after a moment I averted my gaze. The thing about predators is that they know when someone's afraid, no matter how much one tries to hide it. I can try to sound though, but I was intimidated at least, if not scared or afraid. He almost ignored me as he sat down in the one remaining empty armchair in this office.

The Ninth's lips tugged up wards. "Max, meet Xanxus, my son, leader of the Varia and hopefully the next boss of the Vongola." Did I hear that right? This guy is not only the Boss of those assassins, but also the prospected future boss of the Vongola family? Jesus Christ, shit just got complicated.

I glanced over at Xanxus, who didn't even bother to move after hearing this. He stared rather bored at some point on the Ninths forehead. I couldn't get any kind of words past my lips. Not that this Xanxus seems like the kind of person who cares much about niceties.

The Ninth repeated a few small summaries of answers I had given. At least he knows his son well enough to know there is a snowball's chance in hell he's going to ask me about those things. It'd be rather pointless to tell him stuff he was going to find out on his own.

"Well, I'll leave you to alone for a little bit." The Ninth got up from his chair. "Xanxus, whisky I presume. Max, anything to drink?" Strong liquor? Now we're talking.

"Vodka. On the rocks please." Rather unconventional way to drink vodka; it's usually drunken neat. Xanxus gaze rested on me for a moment, I could see, but his expression remained unchanged and unreadable. If he knows his liquor, we at least have one thing in common.

The Ninth left, Squalo followed him out the door and the two of us were left in silence. I looked at Xanxus, who stared out of the window with a gaze focused on nothing in particular. He was thinking and after a while a small smirk appeared on his face. It was ever so slight, but whatever he was thinking about it was something that made him happy.

A man knocked. When he entered he excused himself. He set the tray he was carrying – two glasses with ice, one filled with vodka, the other with whisky – down on the small table in between our two chairs. Xanxus grabbed his glass off the tray the moment the man had turned around. He took rather big gulps, good thing they didn't bring in the bottle. I picked up my glass after the door had closed again. I sipped. Liquor is there to enjoy, not chug down in an attempt to get drunk. But maybe that's just the excuse of someone who doesn't drink that regularly.

During all of this I started to wonder: Why would this Ninth even consider marrying me to his son? And why on earth would he bother to say yes? I'll admit that with some dressing up I can look more feminine, but it's nowhere near trophy wife level. So marrying me for my appearance is not exactly a good reason.

The next best reason to marry someone off, or actually the best reason in mob world I guess, is to establish some kind of alliance. Well, when my father died or last alliance kind of … ended, so there is room enough to for a new alliance I suppose, but well … that only explains why my family would do this, but that doesn't explain a thing about why they would even consider this. They're more powerful by themselves than ten of my kind of family combined.

So ... why?


	3. Chapter 3

And thank god or whatever flying spaghetti monster is up there in the sky, for a few weeks I only had to put up with my mother's nagging. Hmmm … pasta … I should ask Pennyworth if he can arrange it for dinner. I can't remember the last time I had some. Even living in Italy can't assure pasta and pizza for dinner every day. Well, every day would be a bit much, but every other day should be fine.

That meeting with Xanxus, although it really felt more like a confrontation of sorts, ended rather awkwardly. None of us said anything the whole time and it only ended when Squalo came in to drive me home again.

All of this is giving me a headache. People want me to marry this scary assassin boss, and although the Ninth made it seems as if I could say no whenever I wanted, I wouldn't be surprised if mother would say yes for me. She pretty much proposed in my place.

What would agreeing to this proposal mean for me? I'd have to marry Xanxus. Pros: I'd be marrying into a large mafia family. While it would increase my public profile within those circles, having an intimidating assassin for a husband would make people think twice about pulling any 'stunts.' Cons: None of all of this has anything to do with how I feel about him or the circumstances. I don't know him. I don't know anything about him. How can I make a decision like this when I don't even know if I like Xanxus? I'm not even talking about the like-like kind, I want to know if I can stand him enough so I don't go mad from being married to him.

I can't concentrate like this. I'm going for a walk. These are the moments I really want a dog. Having a German shepherd or husky to walk with would make it a lot more fun. Walking by yourself is rather boring. I know the backyard like the back of my hand, nothing interesting ever occurs here anymore. But it's nice and warm in the sun. Not sunbathing-summer hot but still rather relaxing, maybe I should get a book and read for a while. Hmm… what book to get? I've got some old books from college I've been wanting to reread for awhile, but I also have a couple of books I ordered for myself. Can't read about the same old topic for the rest of your life.

Thinking to myself that I'd decide on this when in front of my bookshelf rather than try and recall all the names and topics of these books, I stepped back into the house. When I walked through the living room my mom, who was sitting on the couch going through some papers, called out to me. She'd never let anyone outside this house see her without her reading glasses. It didn't 'go with her image.'

"Maxime, I got a call just now."

"And you want me to do what? Throw a party because you can pick up the phone by yourself?" My mother pursed her lips as I said said that.

"No. It was someone from the Vongola family, serving directly under the Ninth." She said it with a satisfied smile. I never understood why she always had to tell others how important the other people she talked to were.

"And this person said… what exactly?"

My mom took of her reading glasses and sighed. "Apparently you didn't get underneath anyone's skin yet, so you have been invited to spend the next couple of months with the Ninth's son."

If I had been drinking anything I probably would have done a spit-take. And then I would have taken another gulp just so I could do one again. Would it be too late to get a glass of water? I feel the need to express my surprise in a rather cliché manner. Instead I settled for a rather dumb sounding: "What?"

"I could barely believe it myself, but the Ninth thought it might be a good idea if the two of you spend some more time together before any final decision was made." The disappointment in her voice had to be because there was no outright yes to the arranged marriage. But that Ninth is one weird guy. First he keeps telling me I can say no, then this. If it weren't for that odd emotionless smile of his it would seem like he cared about how I felt. "So start packing your bags Maxime. They're coming to pick you up on Saturday."

O, great. Another decision made for me instead of by me.

* * *

I hope I can get some good night's rest at that Varia place because ever since the moment my mother told me I'd be going there I haven't gotten a minute of sleep. I don't know if it was anger or worry or stress but not even a nightcap or two – maybe three – didn't help well enough.

So on Saturday I had stuffed everything important in a backpack and a sports bag, while feeling extremely tired. My mom gave me a lecture about using concealer to appear more awake – "And while you're at it, why not use some eyeliner too!" After yelling at her that I already met these people without wearing make-up she insisted on putting these things inside my bag instead.

"Ma'am, I put your bags downstairs." Pennyworth stood in the door opening. Everybody in the house was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the car which would take me away for god knows how long. He said: "I'll have the box with your favourite books ready for when you send for them." After a short hesitation: "Have a pleasant stay."

"Thanks Pennyworth." I stuffed the last few things inside my pockets. "Don't let my mom drive you crazy." I hugged him. Something that didn't happen very often, but on moments like this you have to express your gratitude. Who knows in which kind of asylum I would've gotten if he weren't there to vent to? Note to people all over the world: get a butler, they're awesome.

"I'll try not to ma'am." He smiled.

I took a long look at my room. It could be a while for I saw it again, but it doesn't look quite the same with the most important of my personal belongings gone. I walked away, down the stairs. I sat down on one of the couches in the hall. Now all I have to do is wait.

Or not. The doorbell rang almost immediately after, followed by some angry knocks.

I didn't wait for Pennyworth to open the door as per usual, I opened it up myself. "Are you sure you're the second in command of the Varia and not some errand boy?" Squalo glared at me. "Come on, you have to admit that you're being used an awful lot to deliver letters and pick people up."

He nodded towards the car. "It's time to go."

My mom came down the stairs. "Don't you want to come in first, have a cup of coffee?"

"No, I'm supposed to get her to the headquarters as soon as possible. It's a long drive." Either an excuse or the truth, works either way for me. He picked up my heavy sports bag like it was nothing. I picked up my backpack.

"Bye mom!" I shouted as I slammed the door shut. Now get the hell away before she realised I didn't call her 'mother.' Squalo had already thrown my bag in the trunk of the car.

"Backseat." He said. I rolled my eyes and got into the car. Squalo stepped into the passenger seat. The driver was the same one as the other time: funny sideburns and piercings. He looked at me intently.

"Does she even know what the Varia is?"

Although it was directed at Squalo, I found that I had enough cause to answer his question.

"An abundance of weird assassins?" They both glared at me. I'm great at making friends, aren't I?

The one with the piercings retorted: "We are proud assassins serving under the Boss. The Boss demands respect. We are the Vongola Famiglia's elite independent assassination squad."

"Doesn't change the fact that you are just a bunch of assassins, does it?" I still assume they're weird, but annoying assassins is a delicate matter and I'm not yet sure how far I can push this yet.

Neither of them seemed any more pleased with me than ten seconds earlier. Squalo made one nod with his head to the driver. "Leviathan." So much for introductions.

I rolled my eyes and started looking for a way to untangle my earphones. I clearly wasn't thinking straight when packing away my headphones, so I'll just have to make do with these annoying ear buds for now. Despite listening intently to music and ignoring those two in the front I think I fell asleep at some point in the car. Since what should have been a drive of a couple of hours couldn't have lasted any longer than half an hour in my experience. At least I finally got some good sleep at last.

So it's easy to see why I was rather drowsy when I got out of the car. I yawned and stretched. Then I looked at the mansion. Damn, this isn't even the normal kind of extravagant, I need a new kind of word. It's also way larger than what I'm used to. They better get me my own bedroom. I have no idea if there are any other girls at this place, but I'm not sharing either way. This mansion is in the middle of a forest, good cover, but also makes for a nice place to take a hike or something.

Squalo just walked towards the door, while someone in a black uniform rushed to the car to get my luggage. Leviathan the driver also got out. Not knowing exactly what I was supposed to do now, I simply trailed behind these men heading to the front door. When Squalo stepped through the door another man in a black uniform – I suppose that is what a Varia uniform looks like then – rushed up to him.

"Mr. Superbi! There – "

"Voi!" – Damn, does this place come with free earplugs? – "It can wait!"

"Well, actually…" he stuttered, probably intimidated by Squalo. The problem made itself clear within a few seconds.

"Is this the bitch trying to steal Xanxus from me?" There was a woman standing in the hallway. I want to say hooker, since that is what she looked like, but this also didn't seem like the kind of place where one would expect to encounter someone like that. Wait… she said 'bitch' right?

"You talking to me?" Since, let's be honest, no one in their right mind would call an assassin a 'bitch,' especially when they're male. The male variant of 'bitch' is 'son of a bitch,' which is a rather odd way of insulting people. I mean: it's more an insult to the mother of this particular person, unless one would assume it is offensive to be the son of someone who qualifies as a 'bitch.' Now why would that be? If one were talking about 'bitch' as a female dog, then referring to her son would mean –

"Don't ignore me!" She had come closer to me. Even if she wasn't wearing those ridiculous heels, she wold still be taller than me. I didn't reply, I simply looked her in the eyes. I never hung out much with girls. They're too… girly. But that doesn't mean I haven't had a few physical altercations with them. I'm not afraid of this pile of make-up. The lack of response was infuriating her, I could see.

"You can't be here." Leviathan said. When he tried to grab her arm she screamed.

I frowned. "I don't know you."

"But I know you. You're the brat that's taking Xanxus away from me!" She pointed a long, pointy, manicured at me. It looks a bit fake to me.

I shrugged. "Talk to the Ninth about that." If she's his girl or something they can settle this with him, but I am willing to bet she isn't in the position she thinks she is.

I wanted to push past her, not that I knew where to go exactly, but I simply had to try and end this conversation. She wouldn't let me. The moment I started to move, she pushed me back. She did it rather hard, so I had to take a step back. If I had been wearing heels I'd been lying on the ground no doubt, and I doubt being more experienced in the art of walking on those things would have kept me standing.

Long story short: she wants a fight? She got one. Things in her favour: she is taller than me. Things in my favour: she's wearing heels and if any one worries about messing up their hair it's most likely her.

One step closer. Right foot in front. Left hand a fist. Thumb on the outside. Turn in a little. Aim for just left of where the bellybutton is. Punch.

She doubled over. Not as much as I hoped, but she definitively felt that. Now that she's 'distracted,' a kick, lower right leg. Although I'm more confident in my high kicks, I managed to wrick her foot out from underneath her, causing her to fall down almost completely. She managed to catch herself while she was on her knees.

I ran a hand through my hair, the little ponytail I had was loose now. I spotted Squalo watching the scene with a mix of slight intrigue and outright impatience or boredom. This must all look rather pathetic to a trained assassin of his calibre. Any calibre, really.

Suddenly I felt something scratch my face, while a big dark blob moved suddenly. Something stung right below my eye and I felt something warm slowly dripping over my cheek. I hadn't expected her to get up, nor had I expected her to have a nail file as sharp as a knife on her with her reach.

Before I could retaliate or anything, Squalo threw her in the direction of the door. "Voi! Enough already! Get her out!" A few Varia members appeared and physically dragged the screaming woman out of the door. Next he grabbed my chin and stared intently at my cheek. "Great. Get Lussuria!" He yelled to some others. He dug out a tissue or something from somewhere: "Keep that to your face, woman." Guess we're done being nice now.

"Who the hell was that?" If he's not being nice, I'm not going to watch my language either.

"Some woman," he breathed in and out slowly and crossed his arms, "the boss took her home once and ever since then she been trying to get in the position you are now."

"She can have it for all I care."

Squalo raised an eyebrow, but shook his head. "Don't think you can get out of this that easy. The Ninth chose you over that bimbo. Besides the Boss hasn't given her the time of day ever since."

"Ooooh!" Someone gasped behind me. An overdressed, over-flamboyant, obviously homosexual man almost appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Well maybe he just likes to dress up, you can't see sexuality from the outside. I'll go with calling him a homosexual until I'm proven otherwise. "Is this the girl?" He looked me up and down. "Well aren't you adorable!" Ugh, is he going to obsess over the way I dress like Mother does?

He skipped criticizing my clothes, for now at least. "Sweetie," – O no, not the nicknames too – "getting into a fight on your first day here?"

"It's not like I planned to."

He chuckled. "Well anyway, I am Lussuria, but you can call me Big Sis Luss." Squalo rolled his eyes. I couldn't see him but there was simply no way he did not do that. Lussuria started to drag me deeper into the mansion. "Let's fix you up quickly so you can get settled, hmm?"

He opened one of the doors in this maze of corridors. Inside was a clean, rather sterile looking room, that looked like it belonged to a doctor. It smelled like disinfectant. He motioned for me to sit on this metal bed. "Show me what she did to you, honey."

I removed the tissue I had been pressing to my cheek. Lussuria took a long look. "We're going to have to get that stitched."

"What? Can't you just put a Band-Aid on it?"

"O no, absolutely not!" He was almost shocked, "It's not very deep, but otherwise you risk scarring your face, and we don't want that now, do we?"

"Ugh." It escaped me before I knew it. He only laughed in response.

He simply disinfected it first, and after that I had a though time not to flinch with the needle so close to my eye. He put some gauze on it and that was it.

"That should be enough, sweetie, I'll show you to your room and then you can get settled okay. Make sure to wear something nice for dinner." So now he's starting about my clothes? Great.

* * *

O god, please tell me that these 'family dinners' are not something that happens every day. Or ever. They're worse than what I have to sit through at home.

It feels like everybody is yelling at each other or trying to get under one another's skin. According to Lussuria these are the six most important members of the Varia, including himself, besides Xanxus, who didn't show up for dinner. Apparently that's normal. For a bunch of high ranking assassins, they sure do act like a bunch of kids.

Speaking of kids, there is a baby here. It's sitting right over there. It's talking. It only seems to be concerned about money, but it's talking! It's a freaking baby! Not even a toddler or anything.

And I wish that was the weirdest thing, but one of these six is a huge machine! And nobody is saying anything. It even has a plate of food set in front of him! He isn't eating. And even if he was, it is clearly a robot! Aren't they seeing this? What the hell is wrong with these people?!

The only other person on this table I didn't know besides these two obvious abnormalities – the other three being Squalo, Lussuria and Leviathan, in other worse the crazy people I had already met – was a teenager. I suppose around my age, but I wouldn't bet on it. He was grinning from ear to ear the entire time and laughing like a madman. He probably is a madman.

Most of them 'argued' over things I could barely understand, so I tried to eat my food while blending into the background. My attention was focused on this giant machine, which had been given the name 'Gola Mosca,' as if it needed discerning from all the others by giving it a name. Just say 'that giant Varia robot' and everybody knows what what they're talking about. There was something about this thing. I've been around giant machines before, although those weren't robots, but I have a hunch, a gut feeling, that thing is hiding something less obvious than the fact that it isn't any sort of natural organism.

I was halfway through eating my main dish of the evening when someone besides Lussuria was paying attention to me. And let's be honest, he was just gushing over everything. The teenager – did I mention he was wearing one of those tiaras little girls like to wear? – turned to me and simply stared at me for a while. Well I think he did, his bangs where so long and thick they hung far over his eyes.

It was actually Lussuria who commented on this first. "Belphegor, is there something you want to say?"

While continuing to smile he said this: "I was just wondering if that old man has gone insane? This here is obviously a lost stray dog! Shishishi." What's is with that laugh? The Cheshire grin was bad enough already.

"Bell! Don't say such things!" Lussuria was, or at least acted, shocked. I couldn't care less. 'stray dog' might be taking it a bit far, but I had to agree somewhat with him: it's not like I'm the kind of person who one would expect in my position.

"She can't even bark herself!" He continued, while pointing a finger at me. "And her bite is pathetic! She couldn't even win from a pack of butter if she wanted to!" I feel like the expression he using is a bit off.

Lussuria wanted to talk in my stead again, but I decided to do it myself. "You want to call me a dog? Go ahead." When he didn't immediately respond I stated: "I've been called a lot worse." His smile only widened as he chuckled – laughed? It's a weird one in either case – as if he wasn't creepy enough already.

* * *

For some reason that Belphegor guy shut up after that, although he laughed or something from time to rime. Can't imagine it'll be for long, but at least there were no more audible insults from him for the rest of the dinner. Meeting everybody in this 'family,' as Lussuria liked to call it, confirmed all my suspicions: these people are freaks. Although weirdoes with sociopathic tendencies is a better, more appropriate description. Did someone ever think to… uhmm, well… psychiatrically examine them?

Now that I am on the topic of brain functions anyway: why didn't mine bother to remember how to walk back to my room? Getting to the dining room had been rather easy once I ended up in the entrance hall, but before that? I have no idea I turned a corner here and there, but I really don't know where and when anymore. It doesn't help either that ever hallway is as gaudy and identical to the next.

This place is big enough to have a gift shop. A shame they don't really, at least then I could buy a map and find my way around this place. Ugh. Seems I have only one option. Open random doors until I either find my room or someone to point me in the right direction. I hate this solution, but there is no other way seemingly. The door leading to my room was a large double door, in the middle of the corridor, so logic dictates that I should open door fitting that description.

I walked to where I thought my room should be around somewhere to work my way from there. The first two doors were locked. Good to know they can be locked – speaking as a girl in a house inhabited almost exclusively by men. At least I haven't seen any women beside the one from this afternoon. – but this information is of little help at the time. But it should be safe to assume that these rooms aren't mine. Either that or these Varia people are assholes.

I found the next door that matched with the memory of my own. Expecting this one to be closed as well I reached for the door handle. I was more than surprised when it swung open. I wasn't the only one. Two heads spun around to see who had opened the door. One I didn't recognise, another plain and simple Varia member I suppose. The other was scared and had eyes ablaze with anger. Xanxus.

Before I could turn away or open my mouth to say anything, Xanxus had already thrown me against the wall and was forcing me to stand up straight by keeping a hand on my throat, the force of which wasn't large enough to choke me but was most certainly uncomfortable.

I was confused at this sudden outburst. I couldn't imagine people being this aggressive in response to someone opening a door. But at this moment I was more occupied trying to get his hand of my throat. Not that me clawing at his hand did anything. But in this rather one sided 'struggle' I caught a glimpse of what was in the room.

In the room, on a heavy looking table, surrounded by all kinds of equipment en tools the sort of which I cannot positively identify, laid the heavy armour clad thing that was Gola Mosca. It appeared as if its chest had been opened up, but I could not see a thing of what was inside.

"Let. Me. Go!" Getting those words out was hard, but it was in vain anyway. Xanxus wasn't the kind of guy who listens to those kind of things. While I guess that he is still angry, he studied my face as if calm. His glare betrayed the anger he must still be feeling. Although for the life of me I could not see why.

"What did you see?" Even if it was more growled out than spoken, I was so surprised that I couldn't immediately answer. As a result of that he slammed me against the wall this time. Not hard enough to do any damage beyond a few bruises I estimated, but I wasn't going to take this as anything but a warning.

He repeated his question: "Trash. What did you see?" Did he seriously call me trash?

"Nothing." I don't think it was because of my struggling but he let me go. He didn't move though. He must still be expecting more. "You're doing some maintenance on that giant robot or something." I was trying to get my regular breathing pattern back, so the words didn't exactly come out that easy.

He kept glaring at me. He's still expecting more? Fine.

"You're a real jerk you know that?" I could've sworn that for a moment a flash of surprise crossed his face. Not many people must say that to his face. "Look, I have no idea what is up with that machine, but from this reaction of yours it's clear it's something fishy you're trying to hide. So next time you try to hide something, work on that."

I straightened my back, he didn't respond. "And if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to finding my room."

The lingering gaze told me this wasn't over yet, but he turned around abruptly and slammed the door behind him and this time I heard the tell tale click of a key turning the lock.

"Jerk!"


	4. Chapter 4

In the end I got back to my room. I ran into Leviathan. He pointed out that I was searching for my room in the wrong part of the building. Of course. After a day or two I was at least able to get from my room to the kitchen and back without getting lost.

The one thing I really had to get used to was that nobody bothered me constantly. Lussuria liked to bust through the door sometimes but I'll take that any day over constant complaining from mother. It's really pleasant to be left to your own devices.

But without much to do I became bored really fast. So it soon became part of my daily ritual to visit the nearby town. It was a bit of a long walk, but that's another good way to kill time. And if I didn't feel like walking there was always a Varia underling willing to drive me around. Being the possible future wife of their boss has his benefits. I only wish I could tell if they were sucking up to me or scared of their boss's wrath.

Not that he cared. I hadn't seen him since the 'little incident' concerning the Gola Mosca. I hadn't really seen that 'thing' around much either. There's definitely something up with that robot. I wish I knew what. Well there's more up with this place and all these people, so it's not like there aren't enough mysteries to solve. Aside from the fact that I didn't come here to solve mysteries. Eh, I need to kill time somehow.

I should inquire about their policies on pets. Walking on my own is boring. The town is nice though. Not quite big, but big enough to have a little bit of everything. A supermarket here, a nice café over there. I like the park the best. Nice and quiet. The people passing through are always too busy with their own life. The park is just a short cut for them. There's always an elderly couple feeding the birds. It looks so nice to be able to spend time with someone like that.

That kind of tranquillity didn't exist in the Varia. Or any kind of tranquillity really. Or peace and quiet. The only breather one gets from random arguments escalating into full out warfare, screaming, destruction of everything within range – including walls and the like – and 'occasional' unannounced explosions is when those crazy assassins are out on a mission or something. But there are always some who stay behind. The fighting gets less, it doesn't stop. Guess I should just feel lucky no explosions have blown me away yet.

Alright I am exaggerating. A little. Weirdly enough I got used to it. Not entirely, but ever since I noticed that most fights happen in the evening and at night, I was not that surprised by them that much anymore. I dare to bet that most of the fights are about who ate the last cookie or something. For people supposed to be assassins, they're all highly obnoxious.

The room they had given me was absolutely lovely. Still too extravagant to my tastes, and I like dark blue better than all this over the top red they seem to use as a theme, but I can't complain. Most certainly not after discovering that my 'room' was more like a miniature apartment. I had some sort of living room or lounge, which I spend most of my time in to be honest, with two doors. One leading to my own private bathroom – which I couldn't be more thankful for – and the other to a bedroom. If everyone gets the same amount of space around here, it's no miracle that they need such a freaking maze of a mansion.

About two weeks after I first moved into… this… mess, Lussuria dropped by unannounced again. Itself not weird, but this time he was holding a bag with a brand name on it. It didn't ring a bell with me but I am not exactly the most knowledgeable on clothing or their brand names. It better not be what I'm thinking it is.

"Hey sweetie!" For someone holding a bag close to his chest he's still able to make some pretty grand arm gestures.

"Any particular reason you are barging in here at a quarter to eleven in the evening?" And indeed, I am wearing the jogging pants and T-shirt I refer to as pyjama. If not for a very interesting theory in this book I was reading I would already be in bed.

"Aw, what makes you think I'd drop by without a reason?" The last five times you decided to burst through my door in the middle of the night. After he saw how I looked at him he continued, while also setting him down on the couch. "I stopped by to give you your clothes for tomorrow night!"

Ah no, not clothes. I mean, I knew it, but you always have to hope. And now I will bet myself fifty bucks there's a dress in there. "Wait, Lussuria, what do you mean 'tomorrow'?"

"Did nobody tell you, sweetie?" … I'm getting pretty pissed at all these people not telling me things. "There's this party tomorrow and the Ninth's guardians thought it would be nice if you accompanied Xanxus."

"What?!" I almost yelled. I knew this would be part of the deal if I did marry him, but why now?

"Well, word of your maybe-marriage got out somehow, we all figured that there would be no point in not having you accompany him." He all said it as if it was nothing. I am more than certain that my mom 'accidentally' let the news get out. "And since you didn't bring anything appropriate with you I did some shopping for you!" I hate how his voice is dripping with glee when he says this.

It was worse when he pulled out a black cocktail dress and his smile widened and reached from ear to ear.

* * *

I barely got a wink of sleep. Again. How big do sleeping problems need to be before you can get a prescription? It wasn't any better when Squalo barged into my room and literally screamed me out of bed.

"The fuck, dude?!" Am I glad that the carpets around here are five times as thick as they need to be. They could be softer though, but that's only noticeable when you fall down on them.

"You need to get up, woman!" He stood with his arms crossed in the doorway as I wiggled out of the blanket that I had somehow gotten wrapped up in.

"Why?" I ran a hand through my hair. Ugh, so many knots. But anyway, standing up right… now.

"You're leaving in fifteen minutes."

"What! Why? How? Isn't it an evening party?" Judging from the cocktail dress Lussuria brought me, the party shouldn't start until five.

"Voi! Do you have any idea what time it is?" Squalo rested his head in his hand. "It takes two hours to get there. You need to get dressed. You haven't even packed have you, woman?"

"Packed? Why would I need to pack? Or change?" I held my hand up. "You people really need to start telling me stuff."

"The man throwing the party invited the two of you to stay over in his mansion." O yeah, right. Xanxus is going. I dare to bet the Ninth is forcing him too, because aside from the booze I don't think he's really into parties. Wait, staying over? O god, please no.

"So start packing woman!" He slammed the door shut behind him. I could already hear him screaming against other people.

"Fine I'll pack" I muttered against myself. I grabbed my sports bag and started throwing stuff into it. That bag Lussuria brought. He had also been smart enough to buy me shoes, which fortunately weren't the same kind of stiletto torture devices mother made me wear. On the other hand, they were still heels. I need a serious talk with Lussuria about how he bought everything in my size, meaning that he knew my measurements somehow.

A long story short: I ended up dishevelled and a mess in front of the mansion with a big black bag in which I had stuffed everything mother usually used to make me 'presentable.'

"What's with you?" Leviathan walked through the front door. Is he playing for driver again? "You look like you just fell out of bed."

I threw the most dirty look I could at him. "Ask Squalo." From his face I could tell he would prefer not to do that.

Instead he nodded in the direction of the car. "Get in. The Boss will be here in a minute."

"You mean that minute I could have used to do my hair?" No I am not fuzzy about my hair, but being able to brush it is an underrated privilege. I sighed, got in the car and attempted to comb my fingers through it to make it look reasonable. Or not as bad.

A tad bit later the door on the other side of the car opened. Xanxus got in. Although I hadn't been actively avoiding him, I can't deny that I had been relieved not to see him until now. And seeing him now, simply made me hope that he was not planning to try and get out of me what he though I knew about the giant robot. He didn't yet – he didn't even bother to look at me – but that doesn't mean he is planning on.

Levi started the car and drove off. I took my earbuds out of my pockets. Just when I wanted to start looking for music to listen to. I felt something hit my shoulder. Heavy and hard but not warm, a lifeless object rather than anything human, like say, a fist.

I looked to my side. Xanxus was still looking out of the window, but I was sure whatever it was came from his direction. I look down at the space between us on the backseat.

A small, thin rectangle. About two thirds in length of a normal pen, and around twice or thrice a wide. Apparently consisting of two separate lengths connected by a a couple of pins on one end. I recognised what it was. A butterfly knife.

I looked at Xanxus. What on earth was the meaning of tossing this in my direction? But it was Leviathan who answered. "He wants you to have it." He avoided directly referring to Xanxus. He is either bad at pretending he cares or he just doesn't care about this. Leviathan continued nonetheless: "If you decided to get into a situation in which you might get stabbed, you should at least be able to stab back. You're associated with the Varia now. You should act like it." He added the last part as if he were shrugging or rolling his eyes. I couldn't tell either way.

I reached for the knife and when no one commented or reacted, I took it. I opened it, if you can call it that. I don't know a lot about knifes but it looked really nice, or at least pretty. The two edged blade appeared solid, and although it had no special pattern, it seemed to display some colour when catching the sunlight. The handle was black, with the characteristic holes in it that I had always seen on these knifes.

Under my breath I muttered a thanks. No one would care either way. People only care about me when it comes to how they appear to the outside world, or how I represent them in front of other people. You get used to it, but it does not exactly work positively for your self esteem or feeling of appreciation. I was intrigued by how well made the knife was. I don't get gifts like this everyday and even if my knowledge about this is limited, I can at least appreciate it.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence. I felt too uncomfortable having been given this knife to actually listen to music in peace. Xanxus was a man who didn't appear to like anybody, let alone talk to them. Leviathan simply seemed to understand that his boss didn't like to chitchat.

Was this really going to be the rest of my life? If I decide to marry Xanxus that is. Driving in a car with a man who doesn't talk to me and is too much of a prick to bother with actually handing me something and saying: "Here" or "Take this"? Avoiding my so called husband safe for these forced public appearances? I try to think of my college finances as a reason to go through with this, but even as someone who has always put personal and intellectual growth above any for of romance, I question whether or not I would be able to put up with this.

I suppose I should at least try for a while longer to life with them. A few weeks are a bit short and only three meetings – of which we only had a 'conversation' once – don't exactly count as getting to know someone in my book. This is all a bunch of crazy shit happening though. In the worst case scenario, I'll at least be away from mother and her expectations.

Hè. It's almost funny how unfathomable these people are. One day Xanxus slams me into a wall without a care in the world, the next he gives me a knife so I can 'match the Varia image.' I assume that means the next time I get in a fight they'd rather have me stab someone than get me scratched. Could it be that Xanxus is only in this for appearances? Or to please his father?

Didn't… Didn't the Ninth say that we… Xanxus and I… both had the right to annul this whole arrangement? I looked at Xanxus. His head was slightly turned to the window, but his eyes were closed. He almost looks calm when his sleeping. Those eyebrows still give him a rather permanent scowl though… The scars aren't helping either. Geez this guy even looks like a mafia boss in his sleep. But me sitting here, still being here, means that he hasn't said 'no' to any of this either.

As much as I hate to admit it, most of that drive I spend on wondering why Xanxus would not have said no yet to this whole arranged marriage. I can't imagine that this guy likes me. I'm not an expert on relationships, far from it in fact, but almost choking people isn't a way people show affection for them. So what other reasons are there? Pressure from the Ninth? Or the rest of the Vongola? Or other mafia families? I can't even work out which is the most probable, all of these things just seem ridiculous motivations. I mean Xanxus actually caring about what people think of him or being influenced by them? Preposterous.

After a long, uncomfortable and silent car drive we arrived at another one of those extravagant mansions mafia members seem to love. How do they keep this stuff apart? They're all big and over the top. Leviathan had the decency to lift my sports bag out of the trunk and plop it onto the parking lot. For everything else you had to look to yourself.

So I wobbled about five to ten meters behind the two assassin with an oversized bag, following them inside. As soon as I was inside some guy in a black vest took my bag from him and struggled to drag it up a set of stairs. He better be getting that to my room. Another man had approached Xanxus and Leviathan, so I figured I'd better join them. From the way he talked I guessed that this must be the 'man of the house.'

"Xanxus! It was such a pleasure you'd be join us. I was under the impression that you'd be bringing a female guest?" He was looking at Leviathan, who looked quite bewildered himself. Xanxus was just going through the motions so he could get away from people as quickly as possible.

"I might be short but that's no reason to ignore me." I stood with my arms crossed. The host had to blink a few times and afterward he had to open and close his mouth a few times. I can't really blame him. It's not everyday you host an event for the most prominent people in the mafia and someone shows up in sweatpants.

"My apologies, I didn't see you." Bullshit. You didn't want to see me so you didn't.

"Just get her to the room so she can change," Leviathan said. Is he trying to be kind? Nah, he's trying not to have his Boss embarrassed in front of any more people.

The host waved over another guy in a vest. "He will take you to your room. The party starts at seven in the ballroom." He motioned to a large set of doors at the end of the hall. Who has a ballroom still nowadays? How… pretentious. Leviathan said some quick goodbyes to Xanxus, who ignored him all together.

"I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up." With those parting words he disappeared out of the doorway. Never thought I'd say this about Leviathan but there goes the last person I could communicate with on a somewhat clear level.

* * *

I can say and complain whatever I want but at least Lussuria doesn't force me into those overly girl dresses like mother does. Although I detest admitting it, this is actually a pretty nice dress. A bit to short for my liking, but unlike those pink and purple monstrosities I feel like this one actually suits me. Not that my opinion of fashion or clothes has any authority.

Lussuria had also send me a dozen texts 'reminding' me that I should wear my hair up, which resulted in me trying to magically turn my short hair into something that actually looks good. That is more difficult than it sounds. It's long enough to hold into a small ponytail but too short to do anything else with it. After a while of making rather pathetic attempts to pin down a strand of hair near my forehead, I just gave up and let it hang near the side of my face. My hair is more suborn than me and that's saying something.

I got out of the bathroom and into the room I would be – and was – sharing with Xanxus. When I walked into the room and threw all the stuff I had used back into my sports bag, I noticed that he was standing in front of the mirror of the dresser. He was trying to get those feathers into his hair along with that weird tail-thing. How do you even attach those things to your hair? Clips?

Xanxus didn't even bother to look at me. He was entirely concentrated putting those things in his hair. I sat down on the bed. I had been so stupid as to not throw a book into my luggage, so there really wasn't much else to do than stare at the ceiling.

My dentist used to have very colourful and eye-catching images hung on the ceiling, that way you had something to look at as a patient. People should pay more attention to decorating their ceiling. All that white, it's rather boring. But then again a really busy ceiling might make a room feel crowded…

I heard something soft hit me.

"You do it." Did that- Did he- Did Xanxus just talk to me? That tail thing that doubled as a hair accessory was now laying next to me on the bed.

"Are you going to stop throwing things at me?" Insert staring/glaring context that I'm probably going to loose but entered anyway.

"Trash."

"Jerk."

I blinked so I guess I lost? It's difficult to tell. Xanxus sat down on the bed, his back to me. Is this his way of saying 'just do it, piece of trash'? I sighed, but complied. If I have to spend at least until tomorrow in relative close proximity to him, I should at least try not to get killed.

It felt weird being this close to him and it made me feel really anxious when I tried brushing some of his hair aside to find a point that would be easy to place the tail. The feathers he had already place himself. I guess those are easier to put in yourself. But if he can't put all of these decorations in himself, does somebody else do it for him at other moments as well?

Focus, Max. Focus! You're messing with an assassin's hair right now. This is no time to overthink things!

Don't ask me how but I managed to get that thing to stick in his hair. I tried to brush his hair a little bit to camouflage the way it was attached to his hair – hair that happens to be surprisingly soft, by the way.

"Good enough like this?"

First he felt if it was well attached, apparently I met the minimum requirements, because he stood up and walked over to the dresser. He scrutinized the way it fell over his shoulder for a few moments. The longer it took him, the surer I was getting that I might not be able to walk out of this room in one piece. In the end he turned around and walked over to me. He proceeded to glare at me.

I held my breath. Did I do it wrong? This is why I should've written my will when I had the chance. Now I'm never going to have a dog to take walks with. Now-

He roughly swiped his thumb over my cheek. I looked at him with the most confused look I could muster.

"Don't cover it."

Was he talking about that scratch beneath my eye? It's been two weeks since that bitch made it, but of course I scratched it open a few times because that is the kind of idiot I am, so it's still visible. I had tried to put some make-up on it, which hadn't necessarily made it look better. Did he wipe it off? Why is he so confusing?

"Trash!"

I looked up. O dear god, I'm already responding to it. He was standing in the doorway, looking annoyed. Apparently I spaced out for a bit and it was time to go to the party or whatever is exactly going on. I tried to put on my heels as fast as possible. By then Xanxus had already walked away, so I had to chase him down the hallway.

By the time I managed to get to the ball room where the party was being held I had already lost sight of Xanxus. Damn, I really can't run in anything that isn't a sneaker. I looked around the room. I hadn't attended an awful lot of these things in my life, but I have been too enough of them to know they aren't my thing. These way too dressed up and made up women, backstabbing each other by gossiping about people just out of earshot. And of course men, who actually backstab each other. Although they at least have the decency not to do it at the party. And they don't exclusively use knifes.

Basically, they're all adults showing off, whether it be their looks, their spouse, their wealth or their power. And aside from my maybe-fiancé I don't think I know anyone here. So they'd better have an open bar.

Somewhere halfway through my attempt to actually make it to the bar, which is made impossible by all these stuck-ups refusing to even move an atom out of the way, I suddenly heard someone say: "Is that you, Maxie?"

Now there is only one person who ever called me that. This incredibly clumsy guy who was friends with my brother. I turned around to where the sound came from.

"Dino?"

The blonde was grinning from ear to ear. "I'd never imagine to run into you here. Or in a dress."

"As if I'm all that excited to be here." I rolled my eyes. "And neither did I think people would let you into their homes. How many vases did you break since you got here?"

He got flustered immediately. "I only broke two vases at your place. Two! And that was the old me, I don't screw up like that anymore. Well... not often."

I made a dismissive hand gesture. "Mother was the only one who cared about that."

"Yeah, that stepmother of yours. She tried to arrange a marriage for me with one of yours sisters all of a sudden a few years back."

"She did? After banning you from the house on multiple occasions?" I had to laugh a little.

"You don't know? I became head of the Cavalone family around then so I guess she tried to force an alliance trough marriage?" I almost wanted to correct him, but forcing an alliance instead of forging once sound something like what Mother would do.

"You did? Like how?" He laughed, he never had been the type that wanted a mobster lifestyle so I guess it didn't happen all that voluntarily. "Well, at least that explains why you're here."

"Haha, good to see that you haven't changed a bit." He held his hand up to his waist and then to just above my head. "Well, on the inside at least. But why are you here?"

The dreaded, but inevitable question. "I uh... I guess you could say I'm kind of caught up in my mom's next devious plan to arrange a marriage?"

"What? You and marriage?" He was shocked, I expected nothing different. "Well then, where's you fiancé? Who is the lucky guy?" And he's grinning again. How do people switch moods so suddenly like that?

"Well, technically speaking we're not engaged or anything yet. We're testing to see if we can stand to be around one another right now I guess." A somewhat older man, with black hair and glasses came up to Dino, apparently it was an underling of him, since he addressed Dino as 'Boss' and asked if he could fetch him a drink or something.

Dino turned to me. "You want anything?"

"A Blue Monday or a Silver Bullet if you don't mind." Dino had apparently not heard of either of these since he made a few arm motions and hand gestures that translate to something along the lines of 'whatever she says.'

"But that man of yours, where is he?" Damn the persistency of people.

"Ever heard of the Vongola?"

He slapped himself on the chest. "One of the most closest allied families of Vongola. In fact I went to visit their next Vongola Boss in Japan a few months ago. He's my little bro." Woah, back up, that is definitely not Xanxus he's talking about. But I thought Xanxus was the next Vongola Boss... And I don't remember Dino having any siblings either. A figure of speech? Given the alliance of the families that'd be logical, but-

"Why you're frowning like that? That's not good for your skin you know?" He poked my forehead making me loose my train of thought. As if I care about wrinkles.

I heard footsteps behind me. At first I thought it was the guy with the drinks but the look on Dino's face – stern and serious – as he peered at a point over my shoulder told me it wasn't him and I had a growing suspicion of who it was. By the time I turned to look he was already standing next to me.

"Ah, Dino, meet Xanxus, the... well you know." I wasn't going to spell it out for him, not with the topic of conversation standing right next to me. Besides Dino is smart enough to figure it out. I hope.

But before I had time to figure out if Dino had understood this – his expressions hadn't changed so I couldn't tell – Xanxus dragged me away wordlessly. Of course right at the moment the guy with the drinks came back. Goodbye my precious alcohol!

In the hallway, which was much less crowded, he set me against the wall, cornering me. "What where you doing with that Cavalone scum?" He growled to me more than he said it.

I blinked a few times. "Dino's an old friend of my brother. We were catching up." Xanxus continued to glare at me. If he hits me head against the wall like last time this happened, I'm done with all this. He didn't. Instead he continued his growl-talking.

"What did you talk about, trash?"

"Nothing, we were just catching up. I didn't even get to explain why I was at this party before you thought it was a good idea to drag me here!"

He took a step back, although Xanxus didn't give off any sort of sign or vibe that we were done talking. "Did the scum say anything worthwhile?"

"If that's what you wanted to know why not say that in the first place?" I crossed my arms and glared back at him. At least now I know what he was after.

No reply, just staring.

Cue me eye rolling. "He said something about his little brother in Japan, who is a candidate for becoming Vongola the Tenth." I really would've liked to not have to talk about this here. "But... aren't you supposed to become the next Vonolga Boss?"

There was something flaring in his eyes. This is why I'd rather have told this to Lussuria or Squalo, or even Leviathan or Bell rather than talk to him directly about this. I know enough about him and his temper to not try to upset him. But what am I supposed to do when he demands I tell him things that are going to upset him? Not doing that would also set him off.

He was clenching his fists, but when no outburst followed I cautiously asked: "Can I go get myself a drink now?"

He appeared thrown off for a moment. My question probably put an end to whatever he had been thinking and after a few seconds he waved his hand dismissively. He walked down the corridor, getting out his cellphone and calling whoever.

Although I didn't really have anything I needed to do at the party or had anyone to talk to – I don't think talking to Dino would be a wise move right now – I made my way to the bar regardless. Luckily for me there were a few empty barstools and I managed to get myself the unoccupied stool at the end of the bar. It's just going to be me and my drink.

There's little more to say about the party itself. Everything moved past me, something I did not mind at all. Only when I decided to get back to my room did someone other than the bartender approach me. Dino's underling man came up to me and smiled while he handed me a card. After that he walked away.

It was a white business card with on one side just 'Dino Cavallone' with a phone number and a horse printed in shiny gold, the other side was left empty by the printed design but someone, Dino, had written on it with pen: 'In case you want to talk' also with a small doodle of what looked like a turtle for some reason. I was glad to have this. Lord knows, I could use someone to talk to from time to time in the situations I find myself in these days.

When I got back to the room, Xanxus wasn't there. It felt weird, but his things were still lying around so he was probably just busy with his phone calls or whatever. At this moment I didn't really care. I just wanted to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up in the morning I was lying on the edge of the bed. I'm not joking, I was literally lying on the edge. The other occupant of the bed was lying right next to me, apparently having driven me into a smaller and smaller part of the bed. So this is the part where I just keep breathing and try not to fall off the bed. Then I would have fallen off of a bed for two days in a row and that is not something I'd like to see happen.

After a few minutes of listening to the quiet room – the only sound was Xanxus's calm breathing, which showed he was still sound asleep – I started wondering about a variety of things. What time was it? What time did Xanxus get back? At what time are we supposed to leave? When is Leviathan coming to pick us up? Where did I put my things again? Where's the Dino's card? When would be a good time to call him? Or should I text him? Geez, can this guy give me a little more space? This bed is twice as big as any bed I've ever slept in and I'm forced onto a space not even a hamster could sleep on. And those things are so freaking tiny.

After softly trying to nudge Xanxus a few times, extra carefully since poking asleep assassins must be rule number one on the don't-do-this-if-you-want-to-live list, but no indications of him making a bit more space, I decide on going with plan B: getting up and getting into the bed on the other side.

Just as I had walked around the bed, a phone rang with a hearing damaging volume. It wasn't my phone ringing on this nightstand so there was only one option left. The owner of the phone only groaned slightly and shifted a little, but made no attempt to go pick it up. How on earth can someone ignore that kind of volume not even two meters away from him?

I looked at the display, which read 'Squalo Superbi.' I was slightly surprised it didn't read 'trash,' but then again, if you list everyone under either 'trash' or 'scum' you never know who's calling. I did the only logical thing to do: pick it up.

Before I could say anything Squalo's voice was already blasting in my ear. "Boss! That piece of trash is apparently in Japan, I'm heading over there right now!"

In the tiny moment where Squalo was taking a breath I interrupted: "Good morning to you too Squalo."

"Voi! What are you doing on the Boss' phone, woman?!"

Too bad you can't see people roll their eyes when talking on the phone. On the other hand I'm probably better off if they can't. "Well, Xanxus appeared to be sleeping through your call, so since I couldn't, I decided I might as well see who was calling."

A moment of silence. "Get the Boss on the damn phone, woman!"

"Whatever happened to asking nicely?"

While Squalo ranted about something – I'm not sure what because I held the phone away from my ear in order to not go deaf – I shouted at the person still in bed: "Xanxus!"

A groan, but no response otherwise. Time for more drastic measures. I grabbed the pillow and threw it at his face. It made a small thud sound and for a moment it didn't seem to work, but then he turned around, making the pillow fall off of him.

In a low, threatening voice that sort of lost it's edge after having to deal with it for a nonsense reason he growled: "Trash."

"Phone." I held it out to him while, Squalo's voice could still be heard indistinctly shouting from the poor, abused speakers. He snatched it from my hand and let himself fall back onto the bed. He either isn't a morning person or hung over. Or both, who knows?

With a simple "What?" Squalo stopped ranting and apparently came to the point. Xanxus didn't say anything so I can't phantom what exactly is so important about this 'piece of trash' is doing in Japan. Wait, Japan... this doesn't have anything to do with what I told him last night, does it? Great. Just great. Well, going by Dino's words it sounded like this 'brother' was already in Japan, so Squalo's 'trash' is not likely the same, but that doesn't mean all of this is unrelated. What possible-

A pillow against my back. I turn around to see Xanxus standing, phone in hand.

"Get your things, trash. We're leaving."


End file.
